


Conversations from a Pandemic

by Raine_Wynd



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: COVID-19, Clan Denial, Current Events, Friendship, Gen, Richie Lives, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: Inspired by current events, Richie looks after a friend who's an ER doctor.Trigger warning: COVID-19. (Please: go read anything else if this bothers you in any way.)
Relationships: Duncan MacLeod & Richie Ryan, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Richie Ryan & Anne Lindsey
Comments: 40
Kudos: 64





	Conversations from a Pandemic

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: COVID-19. Please: go read anything else if this bothers you in any way. I have plenty of other fic for you to read (may I suggest [ The Art Lesson](https://archiveofourown.org/works/278775) if you want fluff?).
> 
> Thanks to ratcreature for the encouragement.

In the supply room of Seacouver General Hospital, Dr. Anne Lindsey studied the boxes of personal protection equipment. Eight hundred each of masks, face shields, gowns, and packs of gloves represented a massive and needed contribution. She was certain she knew who was behind the unexpected and generous donation. Anne had benefited from Richie’s, Duncan’s, and Amanda’s generosity over the years. She’d thank them later, she decided. Now, she had an ER department to supply and patients in need of her care.

When she ended her shift fourteen hours later, she was not surprised to see Richie standing by her car.

“Did you get the short straw?”

“Only one in Seacouver right now,” he declared, shrugging. “Mac can’t get out of Paris with the lockdown. Keys, please.”

“You don’t have to do this,” she protested.

He shot her a ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ look. “Do you want Mac to bitch at you on video? It may be 3 AM here, but it’s noon in Paris.” He held up his phone. “He already gave me the lecture on how I’m to make sure you eat and sleep.”

“No,” she conceded, and surrendered her keys.

Richie drove her home with casual competence.

“Did you donate the supplies?” she asked as he negotiated the route to her townhouse. “That donation means we can survive the next few weeks while we wait for restock. The paperwork said it was from the Locksley Green Foundation.”

He laughed as amusement lit his face. “No, but that name means I know who it did.”

“And you won’t tell me,” she deduced.

“One of Amanda’s friends,” Richie hedged.

Anne glanced at Richie’s face. The darkness of the car meant she could not confirm whether he disapproved of said friend. Amanda meant the possibility of stolen supplies. As head of the Seacouver General ER department, Anne could not accept stolen goods. As a pragmatic woman, Anne decided pursuing the provenance of much-needed resources to be more energy than she wanted to spend. “Then I won’t ask anymore. Tell them I said thanks from everyone?”

“I will,” Richie promised.

“You don’t have to stay,” she protested when he followed her inside her home.

“Do you think you could stand up in the shower right now?” he demanded.

“No. I was going to crawl into bed and shower in the morning.”

“And not lie awake wondering if there was more you could’ve done tonight?”

She closed her eyes and shuddered at his insight. She had forgotten he had listened to her vent about her job. She had also forgotten he had long admired her passion to save patients.

“And what will you do to stop me from dwelling on what I couldn’t do?” she challenged.

“Read to you,” he offered, “so you have something that’s not the news or your patients on your brain.”

More than Duncan, Richie had been a constant in the years since he and Duncan had helped her with her daughter’s birth. That meant Anne understood when Richie dug in his heels, swaying him took effort, like a convincing counterargument to get him to change his mind. Exhaustion meant she did not have the bandwidth to find such an argument.

Once she had changed into her nightgown, he carried a chair from her dining room table into her bedroom and sat down. To her surprise, he read her the chapter of the book he was reading. She fell asleep wondering if the dragon princess would win her beloved knight or be forced to marry for political reasons.

* * *

“I got her to sleep,” Richie reported, stepping on the balcony off the living room to make sure his voice didn’t carry.

In the video call, Duncan looked relieved. “Thanks, Richie. Have you talked to Joe?”

Richie nodded. “He’s hunkered down in his house. I dropped off groceries and prescriptions for him last night. He said he’s glad Methos insisted on paying for renovations to his house ten years ago, since they mean he doesn’t need to live in a retirement home.”

“As if Joe would give up living by himself.”

Richie chuckled. “True. He’s worried about his employees at the bar, though. I checked with Pete, his bar manager, who says the neighborhood’s rallied and they’re doing a steady business with takeout orders. Joe can’t be there – it’s too risky with his age and health – so I set him and Pete up with Zoom.”

Relief washed through Duncan. “Can Joe get to his doctors if he needs them?”

“Only via telemedicine right now, but he assured me as long as I can pick up his prescriptions, he’ll be fine.” Richie did not go into Joe’s medical problems, unwilling to make Duncan worry even more. “He told me to tell you he’s fine and not to worry. He plans on living to be 100.”

“In other words, he’s feeling his age and doesn’t want me to worry,” Duncan translated.

“Yeah. Sorry, Mac, but it’s better you’re there and not here. He thinks you’d be more upset about him being stuck in his house than he is.”

Duncan acknowledged that with a rueful nod. “Never did like enclosed spaces. Is Amanda with you? Her last message to me was to let me know you had picked her up from the airport.”

“No, she’s with Cory,” Richie replied. “They’re delivering another truckload of PPE to South County General. They donated a truckload earlier to Seacouver General.”

“Where did they find–” Duncan’s eyes widened.

“Cory traced an opportunist buyer back to two storage units here in Seacouver.” Richie shrugged. “He convinced said buyer to give up the merchandise.” 

Duncan smirked. "As in talked to or stole it outright?"

Richie returned Duncan’s grin as he lifted both hands to underscore his words. "Who splits hairs in an emergency, Mac? The look on Anne’s face was worth it.” While he had not been a part of the acquisition, Richie had asked if he could drive the truck to drop off the supplies to Seacouver General so he could witness Anne’s reaction. Claiming he didn’t trust Richie to not crash the truck, Cory had set up a camera feed in the supply room instead. The compromise meant Richie had been able to help Joe.

Duncan grimaced. “I’m glad you’re there. I’m going to see if there’s anything more I can do here.”

“Stop by Sanctuary,” Richie recommended. “Nick Wolfe messaged me and asked if you were in the city; he needs someone to help organize a food drive.”

“I’ll do that,” Duncan latched onto the suggestion with relief and gratitude. “Get some sleep yourself, Richie. Anne will want to get back to work sooner rather than later.”

“I know. Mary isn’t here or I’d have help making sure Anne takes a break.”

“Where is our godchild?”

“Baltimore; she moved out there for college and decided to stay. Matthew McCormick promised to check on her for me, since he’s in DC.”

“Text me his number, will you? I lost it when my cell phone died.” Duncan grimaced again. “Someday, they’ll invent a phone that survives getting dropped.”

From the look on his face, Richie suspected Duncan had dropped his phone to answer a challenge. “Give me a sec.” He paused the video call and texted the Southerner’s information to Duncan. He heard the answering ping when he switched back to the video call. 

“Thanks, Richie. Let me know if Anne needs anything.”

Richie nodded, and ended the call. As an immortal not yet in his fifties, Richie felt limited in what he could do to help in the COVID-19 pandemic. Making sure that his mortal friends’ needs were seen to, especially Anne, who was on the front lines, was the least he could do.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback in the form of kudos, comments, constructive criticism, "hey, I liked this!", keyboard smashes, etc. all welcome, even when this fic is "old" and I've long since forgotten I wrote it.


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